Our Little Secret (21 page)

“Good security system?”

“The best. We’ll be fine.”

“Hmm.” The man finally rose, but instead of heading toward the front door, he walked to a window where he checked the latch and security sensors. “Looks pretty good.”

Drew ground his teeth. “Like I said, it’s the best.”

“Silent alarm?”

“No, it’s loud enough to wake half of Washington.”

“How about a guard dog?”

Drew frowned. “Is there some reason you think we aren’t safe here?”

“Just being thorough.” He gave a reassuring smile. “How about—”

“Look, the house is secure,” Drew interrupted. “And we have every confidence that you’ll keep us safe.” He strode across the room and offered his hand in an obvious invitation to leave. “I know you need to concentrate on finding Senator Creighton and Meg, so I’ll let you go. Thanks for your time.”

The agent reluctantly shook hands. “You’re welcome, Mr. Creighton. Like I said, it’s no trouble for me to stay if you two feel insecure about your safety—”

“No need. We feel absolutely safe and secure, don’t we, Lauren?”

She angled a heavy-lidded glance his way. “For the moment.”

Drew slapped the man on the back. “Miss Sutherland likes to take life moment by moment. She’s the impulsive, thrill-seeking type.” Drew grinned at Lauren as he propelled the man toward the door, and saw an amused twitch at the corner of her mouth. Good: She was still with him.

“As long as you’re sure…”

“Positive. Call us if there are any developments.” Drew handed the agent his coat and ushered him out before he could think up any more questions. The man had been amazingly inquisitive, considering Gerald had to demand this meeting. Next time they’d settle for a phone update. He slammed the door and bolted it.

“I feel better now that I’ve talked to them, don’t you?” Lauren spoke from the wide entryway to the living room. “Knowing those two men who attacked us might be the same ones they’ve been investigating for bribery and fraud. It sort of ties the whole thing together.”

“Yeah, I feel better, too.” A whole lot better, in fact, now that the eager beaver agent was gone.

He tried to assess her mood, but he couldn’t read her. With her jeans, T-shirt, sneakers, and casual-but-perfect hairstyle she looked like the wholesome girl next door. He could easily picture her skiing the slopes with him or curled beside him in front of his fireplace while the snow piled up outside. But with a simple tilt of her head, her eyes took on a sultry look and the homey scene in his imagination altered abruptly. He saw the same fireplace, but now she was stretched out on the rug before it, naked and glowing from the flames licking behind her. Or maybe the flames were
inside him, he wasn’t sure. The same way he wasn’t sure why he kept picturing her in his house.

She bit her lip as she watched him. “With the Secret Service and FBI taking over, I suppose we don’t need to make a plan now.”

“That’s ironic, because I just made one,” he said.

He noticed the startled flicker of awareness before she settled a confident gaze on him. “Really?” Her lashes lowered as she assessed him. “What are you going to do?”

Good question. “That depends,” he said, moving toward her. “Which Lauren am I talking to?”

She didn’t back away, just arched an eyebrow. “There’s more than one?”

He nodded. “Oh, yes. There’s the proper, sensible Lauren, the practical financial manager, and there’s the more daring, spirited Lauren who’s been hiding behind the first one, who follows her passions.”

“How do you know that second one is there?” Her voice was teasing, but he sensed a real curiosity behind the question.

“If you have any doubts, I’ll be glad to introduce her to you.” He brushed a lock of hair aside and looked into her eyes. “Which one am I talking to?”

She gave it careful consideration. “I’m the unattached Lauren.”

She followed his gaze down to her left ring finger and seemed surprised to see the diamond there. Embarrassed, she twisted and tugged until she had the ring off. Without a backward glance, she tossed it over her shoulder. Drew watched it bounce off the living room sofa and land on the carpet. “
Completely
unattached,” she repeated.

He pulled her into his arms, no more than two steps from where he’d pinned her to the wall that morning. “I’m developing a fondness for this particular part of the house,” he murmured against her mouth, before sinking into a kiss that felt as hot as molten lava and as natural as coming home.

Lauren’s arms locked around his neck, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other fisting in his hair, while her mouth opened for him with eager passion. Her tongue was warm and wet, actively matching each of his strokes, as her fingers massaged his body. Sexy little sounds rose from her throat and were smothered against his mouth. She seemed helpless to fight the desire that gripped her and that turned him on even more than the wild excitement of her mouth.

His hands roamed down her back to her soft bottom, pressing every part of her to him. Her body squirmed against his, rubbing purposefully across his erection. Drew groaned and backed her against the wall. They hit with an awkward thump, but their kisses never missed a beat. He leaned against her, pressing into every curve. If they got any closer he’d be inside her, which was exactly where he wanted to be.

One hand rose to find her breast and she arched into it, whimpering when his thumb passed over the hard nub of her nipple. He sucked on her lower lip, kissed her firmly once more, then moved his mouth away from hers just long enough to utter a succinct, “Upstairs.” No other words seemed necessary.

“Mmm,” she replied against his lips, licking and nibbling and driving him insane. “That sounds like a good idea.”

He dragged her into one last deep kiss, then whispered
harshly, “Let’s go,” just as the doorbell chimed over their heads. He jumped like it had been a gunshot.

“What the hell?”

Lauren’s foggy expression cleared. “Pizza delivery.”

“Let’s ignore him.”

She grabbed his arm. “Wait, I want food. Besides,” her eyelids lowered seductively, “you’re about to work up a very big appetite. I promise. Take ten seconds to pay the man and I’ll demonstrate.”

He growled with a different sort of hunger.

“Damn.” He reached for the wallet in his back pocket, shifting uncomfortably as he pulled against the snug fit in the front of his jeans. He pulled out bills while she opened the door. A crack of sunlight and cool air entered, then disappeared in a whoosh as she slammed the door shut. Panic widened Lauren’s eyes as she stood with her back to the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Trenchcoat,” she whispered, as if the man could hear her through the heavy door.

“Who?”

“The guy in the Burberry trench coat who hangs out with Hawknose, the guy with the gun.”

Drew froze. “The man who tried to kidnap you is standing at our front door?”

“He’s delivering our pizza,” she squeaked. “He’s wearing the pizza place’s jacket and he’s holding my extra large with mushrooms and green peppers, but I know it’s Trenchcoat. I recognize him.”

“Shit.” He stuffed the wallet back in his pocket, his arousal already flagging. The doorbell rang again as he gave hurried directions. “Step back as you open the door, so he has to come inside. And talk to him so
he keeps looking at you.” He positioned himself to be behind the arc of the opening door, waiting tensely. “Go.”

Lauren’s face was still flushed and her hair slightly tousled. Drew hoped Trenchcoat found the sight as incredibly distracting as he did. If the man kept his eyes on Lauren, Drew felt confident of his ability to take him down.

She didn’t question him, just turned to do what he asked. The door opened, forcing Drew backward. Following directions, Lauren stepped away, saying “Come on in,” with such a slight quiver in her voice that he was sure the other man never detected it. Past the edge of the open door, Drew watched a red-jacketed man step into the foyer, a large pizza box in his hands. Trenchcoat.

Drew moved forward silently, stopping behind him. Reaching out, he tapped the man on the shoulder. Trenchcoat gave a startled jump and turned his head. Ready for the move, Drew aimed his fist at the man’s jaw and threw his hardest punch.

Trenchcoat grunted and crashed against the open door. The pizza box dropped. Lauren darted forward, caught the box, and stepped back again as the man teetered like a drunk and fell to his knees. Raising a confused face, Trenchcoat tried to focus on the person before him. “Mrs. Creighton?” he asked, blinking dizzily. Drew caught him with a second punch, snapping the man’s head sideways. His body followed, crumpling to the slate floor.

“Wow,” Lauren said.

Drew grimaced and shook the pain from his hand. “Please tell me you’re still sure that’s the same man.”

She bent over the unconscious figure. “That’s him.”

“Good.” He noticed the pizza box in her hands and smiled. “Nice save.”

She smiled back, losing some of her tension. Stepping over the man on the floor, he put his hands on her shoulders. He couldn’t get closer while she held the pizza box between them. “Hey, I’m sorry I made you put yourself in front of him like that, even for a few seconds. I didn’t think about how scary that might be for you.”

She shrugged. “It was, a little, but I’m okay.”

He smiled. “That’s all I care about. Let’s find out who this jerk is.” Bending over the still form, Drew unzipped the red jacket and felt around. He found what he was looking for in the man’s shirt pocket. Standing, he flipped open the thin leather ID holder.

And froze. “Oh, shit.”

“No kidding,” Lauren said, peeking inside the pizza box. “They gave us olives instead of green peppers.”

“Not that, sweetheart.” He held the open ID for her inspection. “This.”

Her face paled. “Oh, shit,” she agreed. She met his eyes. “Secret Service?”

Drew ran his hand through his hair. “We’ve captured a Secret Service agent. Swell.”

Lauren didn’t trust the man, even in his unconscious state. She stood several feet away, clutching the pizza box. “Maybe we should tie him up.”

Drew was one step ahead of her. He had already yanked off his belt and was using it to fasten the man’s hands behind his back.

“How can he be Secret Service?” she asked. “That man and his partner tried to kidnap me. At gunpoint! I thought Secret Service were the good guys.”

“It’s probably a fake ID,” he said, cinching the belt around the man’s wrists.

“That FBI agent told us the guys who tried to kidnap us were probably part of the bribery scam. He didn’t say they might be Secret Service agents.”

“That’s what I’m saying, it’s probably a fake ID. Or else that twerp didn’t know what he was talking about, which wouldn’t surprise me either.”

Drew rolled the guy over, reached inside his jacket and came out with a gun. Lauren bit back a gasp, but Drew handled the gun confidently, looking it over before tucking it into the back of his waistband.

He folded his arms and surveyed the trussed agent. “Whoever he is, let’s hope he’s not the real thing. I could probably get several years in prison for knocking out an agent and a few more just for tying him up.”

“No you won’t, you were just protecting me.” Drew hauled the moaning Secret Service agent to a sitting position and slapped his face. “Come on, fella, you’re messing with my love life. Wake up.”

His groggy eyes gradually opened. The man squinted first at Drew, then Lauren. Jerking his arms and finding himself bound, he aimed a nasty look at Drew, who gazed back, unmoved. With only the pizza box between her and her attempted kidnapper, Lauren moved closer to Drew and felt his arm come around her waist. That was much safer.

Gingerly, the man licked a drop of blood off his puffy lower lip and raised his eyes to Lauren. “Mrs.
Creighton, I give up,” he said in a weary voice. “I’m tired of chasing you. Would you please just tell me why you don’t want me to protect you?”

Lauren’s mouth dropped open. “Protect me? You tried to abduct me! And I’m not Mrs. Creighton.”

“I did not—” He paused with a frown, appearing to doubt what he’d heard. “What do you mean, you’re not Mrs. Creighton?”

“Mrs. Creighton is my sister, Megan. My name is Lauren.” She didn’t see any harm in telling him. At least he might stop trying to kidnap her.

The man’s voice sounded confused. “Sister? I was told to pick up the Senator and Mrs. Creighton and take them to a safe house. I wasn’t told about a sister.”

“Who didn’t tell you?” Drew cut in. “Who are you working for?”

“Secret Service. The name’s Agent Chapman.”

“Yes, Dwayne Chapman.” Drew flashed the ID he still held. “I see that. But can I believe it?”

“Why wouldn’t you believe it? Oh, yeah, because you get your kicks out of attacking agents and smashing them to the ground. Thanks a lot for that.” He took a few moments to get his sneer under control. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you people, but if you don’t untie me and let me call my partner, you’re going to have a whole team of agents storming this house in five minutes.” He tested the belt confining his arms again and must have noticed the missing bulk behind him. He shot Drew a hard look. “And give me my gun.”

“No,” Drew replied. “First you make the call. Then I make a call, and if I’m satisfied you’re who you say you are, you get the gun.”

Their staredown lasted several seconds. “Goddamn it,” Chapman finally grumbled. “Okay. But hurry up.”

When Drew released his hands, Agent Chapman called someone Lauren presumed to be Hawknose, explaining in clipped words that he was talking to the subjects and would be out in fifteen minutes. He disconnected and wordlessly handed over the cell phone. While Drew called a number he got from Gerald’s desk, Chapman tested the movement in his jaw, wincing with each motion. Lauren hoped he didn’t expect an apology. The man had scared her to death, and Drew had obviously reached his limit of tolerance with Secret Service agents.

When Drew’s call ended, he flipped his phone shut and told her, “The agency confirmed his identity. He’s authentic.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. That meant they had a legitimately pissed off agent on their hands.